


the poem you make of me

by catchmidnight



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: After the first chapter, Ambassador Sokka, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Fire Lord Zuko, Fluff, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Getting Together, M/M, Post-Canon, The Five Love Languages, a lot of emotional processing, a whole bunch of caretaking, sokka teaches zuko how to treat himself kindly, this was cathartic to write i hope it's cathartic to read, three-ish years post-100 year war, zuko teaches sokka how to treat himself gently
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24750427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catchmidnight/pseuds/catchmidnight
Summary: After the war, Sokka and Zuko shoulder the burden of creating a new world. It gets to them sometimes, but they help each other through it.Or, five glimpses at how Sokka and Zuko learn to love each other best.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 181





	1. words of affirmation

Zuko gritted his teeth as he scratched out the latest draft of the letter he was penning to the Earth King. He crumpled it in his fist then hurled it at the other similarly-blemished drafts, strewn along his doorway, and pulled out a fresh scroll, starting again. But the words were still coming out all wrong, his penmanship was growing sloppy, and _that’s not the right way to describe this project, either_ , he growled at himself _._ He tore through the paper on this one, balled up as tight as he could and set ablaze so he could chuck it even harder.

“Woah, careful with that.” Zuko whirled around to see Sokka closing the door behind him, a bottle of sake dangling from his hand. The flame in the palm of Zuko’s hand receded, and smoke curled from the crisped edges of the paper. He was too tired to prevent himself from staring at Sokka, illuminated in the weary candlelight **.** The flames cast shadows, intensifying Sokka’s already strong jaw and accentuating the curves of his powerful shoulders. Zuko’s fingers twitched, longing to reach out and trace Sokka like the candlelight did. The candles echoed the heat blazing through Zuko’s chest, growing enough that Sokka had to take a step back. _As if he were reading your mind_ , Zuko snapped at himself bitterly. 

“Hey watch it!” Sokka raised the sake bottle and shook it. “I’m extra flammable right now.”

A tight grin spread across Zuko’s face, breaking through the tension he carried everywhere else. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he teased. “I’m sick of working and needed a break.” He took a second to scan the discarded letters scattered across the floor. “From the looks of it, you need one too.”

Zuko tossed the now pile of ash in the palm of his hand into the trash bin beside his desk, turning back to the blank scroll on his desk that seemed to taunt him. “I can’t.” He sat down, then added, “You can still stay if you want, so long as you’re quiet. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“You never take breaks.” The sake bottle clinked as Sokka set it down to gather Zuko’s failed letters.

“You don’t need to—” Sokka waved away the protest with his free hand, scooping up the papers and depositing them into the trash bin. Leaning on Zuko’s desk, he crossed his arms and stared down at Zuko. This time, Zuko tried not to watch Sokka’s muscles shift beneath his smooth skin or the way his striking blue eyes sparkled in the candlelight. He failed, of course.

“Why don’t you let yourself rest?” Concern knit Sokka’s brow together and Zuko wanted to smooth away Sokka’s distress with the pads of his thumbs. Instead, Zuko dug his fingernails into his palm, trying to distract himself.

“I can’t.”

Sokka scoffed. “Even the almighty Fire Lord has to rest. Besides, with everything you’ve done in the past four years you deserve it.” Zuko opened his mouth to argue but Sokka pressed on. “You changed the lives of your palace staff, you reinvested back into the arts, you disbanded the firebender police guard and created better support structures, and that’s just here! Not to mention what you’ve done in the rest of the world—”

“It’s not enough!” Sokka blinked in surprise as Zuko raised his voice to shout. “All of those should have been done way more efficiently! If I had taken more meetings in a day and talked to the arts ministers sooner on or realized the police chief didn’t care about the people he was trying to protect I could have done way more by now. I’m behind.” 

Didn’t Sokka see? He wasn’t the great Fire Lord not only Sokka but all of his friends kept telling him he was. Woven through every success Sokka listed were missteps that cost him time, mismanaged funds and mistakes he shouldn’t have made. There were decades of pain and hurt that his family had caused the world and he had to fix it. Good intentions weren’t enough, not at this point.

“Zuko,” Sokka started, then paused. His voice cradled Zuko’s name like it was something delicate and Zuko turned to look at him. Uncrossing his arms, Sokka knelt down next to Zuko, and Zuko watched as he folded his limbs until he was looking up into Zuko’s eyes. “You’re never going to be able to fix everything.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Zuko bit out, unable to break eye contact. Unfazed, Sokka let out a sigh before continuing.

“What I mean is, it is an impossible task to undo everything bad your father and Azulon did as Fire Lords. But you’re doing what you can and that’s all anyone can ask of you.” Sokka placed a warm hand on Zuko’s forearm where it laid on the armrest and a flush spread up Zuko’s neck from the touch. “That’s all you can ask of yourself.”

Zuko looked down to where Sokka’s hand rested on his arm. “I’m never going to be enough for what people need from me.”

“You already are.” Sokka shifted his weight back into the balls of his feet, unfolding to stand up again and offering Zuko his hand. “I’ll prove it to you.”

Zuko took his hand, rising out of his chair. “How?” he asked, voice hollow.

“Get dressed in your most discrete clothes and meet me outside in ten. We’re going on a field trip.”

Hood pulled over his eyes, Zuko emerged from the palace to see Sokka gazing softly at the moon. He hesitated, not wanting to cut in. Zuko had asked Sokka about his fascination with the moon, once, and Sokka explained how Yue had sacrificed herself to save the moon spirit. Remembering their conversation on the war balloon to Boiling Rock, Zuko had mentally kicked himself; in hindsight, his response had been far from adequate.

Despite his efforts, Zuko’s footsteps alerted Sokka to his presence, and he turned his full attention on Zuko. “Ready?” Zuko nodded, and they set off. Sokka had taken measures to blend in too, changing into deep navy, nearly black clothing and taking down his hair. The ends grazed his chin, fluttering gently as they walked. Maybe it was good that Sokka rarely wore his hair down, Zuko mused, since even the crisp evening air couldn’t slow the fiery ache that tore through Zuko’s body at the sight of it.

When Sokka turned to look at him, Zuko started, feeling as if some fourth wall had been broken and he no longer had the luxury of watching Sokka anonymously. Rather, he was shoved under the spotlight of Sokka’s scrutiny, every intimate corner of his imagination spelled out in bold letters across his face for Sokka to peruse. “What is it?”

“I-uh-your hair’s down,” Zuko sputtered, hoping it was dim enough where Sokka couldn’t see his cheeks flush. He tried not to lie to the people he trusted, including Sokka—especially Sokka, who had a way of pulling Zuko’s contemplations out into the open before Zuko realized he was even speaking. What Zuko could do, though, was curb his enthusiasm and speak vaguely enough to shield the spark of desire that surged throughout his every thought about Sokka.

“Yeah. Gets in the way like this, though.” Seeming to take Zuko’s statement at face value, and illustrating his point, Sokka blew a strand of hair out of his face. “But I wasn’t in the mood to sign autographs tonight. Y’know, being a war hero and the Southern Water Tribe ambassador, I’m kind of a big deal around here.” A low huff of laughter escaped Zuko’s lips and Sokka grinned. “Besides, it’s not about me tonight. Not where we’re going.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” They were nearing the center of the city, and rows of lanterns bathed the streets ahead of them in pools of light. Wisps of crowd chatter grew louder and louder as they walked.

“You’ll see. Just trust me.” 

_Yes. Without hesitation._

Zuko watched as they turned a corner and the street before him erupted into bursts of light and sound. Rows of brightly colored storefronts flanked eager crowds of customers drifting from shop to shop, with enthusiastic chatter ringing out into the air as store owners greeted long-time customers. Upbeat music swam through the air, and the lights spilling from the shops and glowing from the lanterns held the inky darkness of night at bay.

Zuko turned to face Sokka, only to find Sokka already watching him closely. “This night market is here because of you,” Sokka said. 

It was one of Zuko’s earliest projects. A few large corporations had grown rich from wartime profits and dominated the markets, and Zuko heard how smaller family-owned businesses had been struggling as he drifted in disguise throughout the city. He inquired at several stores, asking what could be done to help. Most store owners didn’t even realize they were speaking with the young Fire Lord until an envelope with the royal seal arrived at their shops a day later packed with money and a letter thanking them for their time. He visited them again in a slightly more formal capacity to talk about how he as Fire Lord could help, and several floated the idea of a night market. It started small, only about a block long. Once it was off the ground, the shopkeepers assured Zuko they could keep it going, they just needed funding. He had readily agreed, and made sure to stop by as it was expanding for the first few months, working the register for any owner who was accumulating a long line. As he turned his attention to other matters, his visits to the market became less and less frequent.

“It wasn’t all me,” Zuko said, brushing aside Sokka’s words. “I wasn’t the one who organized everything, or contacted all the vendors, or—”

“You gave what you could to meet what they told you they needed,” Sokka interrupted firmly. “And that was enough. Don’t you see how happy everyone is?” Scanning the crowds, Zuko could see Sokka was right. A young girl munched happily on a steamed bun as she admired a charcoal sketch in one artist’s stand with her mother. Across the way, a fruit merchant gesticulated wildly as he told a story to a customer, both of them exploding in laughter. One young couple strolled down the block, the shorter man stealing a bite of noodles off of his partner’s chopsticks. His eyes widened in delight as he chewed and his boyfriend, grinning fondly, bent down to press a quick kiss to his forehead.

“Hey, you okay?” Zuko’s hand raised unconsciously to his cheek and he was surprised to find it wet. Swiping away the tear, he glanced at Sokka.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” Sokka didn’t seem quite satisfied with his answer and tugged him into a side street. The towering buildings blocked out the lanterns from the market, muffling the sound slightly.

Sokka pulled Zuko to face him, gripping his shoulders. “You see it, right?” His voice was lower, cracked with emotion. “You’re doing enough. You are enough.”

Trembling, Zuko looked down at the ground. “I-I’m not sure I can believe that yet.” It was true, but Sokka wanted him to believe in himself so badly it felt like failing. Sokka squeezed his shoulders as if he could press the belief into Zuko’s very being. “But I’ll try to be less hard on myself.”

Sokka’s grip relaxed, and Zuko looked up, searching for his face hiding in the shadows. Sokka’s expression was hard to see, but his words came out gentler, less strained this time, “Good. That’s all I can ask.” He gathered Zuko into a hug, and Zuko felt the tension unwinding from his body in Sokka’s embrace. Sokka’s head shifted on Zuko’s shoulder, turning to murmur in his ear. “You’re more than enough for me.”

Zuko stiffened and, feeling him tense, Sokka backed up quickly. How in Agni’s name was he not supposed to interpret that as meaning something more? Sokka’s words felt drawn out of Zuko’s tender daydreams about the two of them, not from their easygoing platonic banter.

“I-look, Zuko, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you for months.” _He knows,_ Zuko thinks, _he’s caught me staring one too many times and pities me and—_ “I like you way more than just as a friend.”

Zuko inhaled sharply. He scrabbled for words, turning up only half-formed questions and suddenly “Why?” tumbled out of his mouth.

“Why?” Sokka scoffed. “Zuko, do you actually look in the mirror when you’re getting ready in the morning or can you only fixate on getting your hair perfect? You’re _stunning_. You have such a wonderful voice and when you smile it’s so warm it makes me melt and you care so much about your friends and helping as many people as you can and—”

“Can I kiss you?” If Sokka didn’t stop pelting him with compliments Zuko was pretty certain he might set both him and Sokka ablaze. This was the only way he could think of to shut him up. Plus, he _needed_ to be as close to Sokka as possible. Immediately. 

“Please,” Sokka breathed. Zuko stepped forward, closing the distance between them, pressing their mouths together. Eagerly, Sokka kissed back, snaking his arm around Zuko’s waist and weaving his fingers through Zuko’s hair as if he needed Zuko as close as humanly possible. Never before this could Zuko dream of a Sokka who wanted him this much, but those doubts grew smaller and smaller the longer Sokka kissed him.

He felt Sokka grin and they pulled apart, just enough to give them space to breathe. Zuko rested his forehead on Sokka’s, and Sokka nudged him gently, deepening the touch, as if promising they would never have to be farther apart than this ever again.

“Believe me now?” Delight surged through Zuko’s body from hearing how unraveled their kiss had left Sokka. He could only nod gently, casting his gaze to the ground. 

Sokka’s warm hands found Zuko’s cheeks, gently tilting his face upwards to look at Sokka’s face. There was so much love there, and all for him, he noted with a jolt of surprise. The gentle smile, admiration that eased all the tension out of his brow and softened all of his features into their most vulnerable states, shaped him into something precious. “You’re always more than enough for me, darling.” 

_Darling_. 

Zuko could barely process the word before they drew together for another kiss.


	2. acts of service

“Please come to bed,” Zuko pleaded from across the room. 

Sokka looked up from the letter he was scrawling out to Aang to see Zuko draped across Sokka’s bed, arms outstretched. The sight was tempting; Sokka considered finishing the letter another time for the sake of curling up with Zuko, but he turned resolutely back to his desk.

“Give me ten minutes!” Sokka pleaded apologetically. It was Aang and Katara’s fourth anniversary this year, and Sokka had received a hastily scribbled letter a few days ago from Aang, who was panicking about what to do to celebrate. Not only was Sokka happy to help out his old friend, but it was his job as Katara’s older brother to make sure she felt taken care of and loved. 

_Did you stop by anywhere she liked when you were overseeing the Air Temple reconstructions this year?_ Sokka wrote. _You could go back, make a vacation out of it. I’m sure she’d be touched that you remembered._

“That’s what you said ten minutes ago,” Zuko called back, and Sokka could hear the pout in his voice.

“I’m sorry, love, Aang needs anniversary advice and I’ve got a few more reports to read and—hey!” A lapful of needy Fire Lord obscured Sokka’s view. Zuko was straddling his waist, wrapping his arms around Sokka’s neck and pulling him into a slow, deliberate kiss. When they broke apart, Zuko gazed fondly at him.

“Hey.” Zuko’s voice was raspier than usual, roughened by exhaustion and a long day’s use. Sokka brushed a fallen strand of Zuko’s hair away from his face, freed from its formal topknot an hour ago, when Zuko first began hinting—and when that didn’t work, insisting—that Sokka come to bed.

“You’re tense.” It wasn’t a question, and Zuko was right. But Sokka just squeezed Zuko tighter to him, burying his face into Zuko’s chest.

“‘M not,” he lied as he became instantly aware of every ounce of rigidity he was carrying in his body. But he could handle it, and besides, he didn’t want Zuko to worry about him. He had enough on his plate.

“You’re lying,” Zuko stated flatly as he wrigged free from Sokka’s grip, pressing his thumbs on the middle of Sokka’s forehead and massaging gently outwards to unwind the tension he held between his eyebrows. 

The first time Zuko did this was a few days after they began dating. Sokka had mistaken it for some weird Fire Nation preoccupation with wrinkles. He had been pacing around their room frantically before his first meeting with the Northern Water Tribe ambassador, and Zuko had caught his hand as he passed by. He’d looked at Zuko, pained. Zuko rose from his chair, reaching to smooth out his forehead, but he batted Zuko’s hands away. Wrinkles were signs of a life lived well, Gran Gran had always told him. But Zuko hung his head and retreated into himself, so Sokka had asked him about it.

Zuko had mumbled back a barely audible reply. “I don’t like seeing you so worried.” The answer had startled Sokka. No one had ever seemed to care about how worried he was. Up until then, Sokka thought he had hid it well, too, clasping his hands behind his back so no one could see his fingers fidget, or letting his face drift into a peaceful stillness when his thoughts were racing on collision courses around his head. So he had gently brought Zuko’s hands back to his forehead, silently encouraging him to resume his massaging. A warm flush had spread through Sokka’s chest as a small smile had crept across Zuko’s face. Zuko, he had realized, enjoyed taking care of him just as much as Sokka enjoyed being taken care of.

Zuko’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. “Sokka,” Zuko sighed quietly. While Zuko adored being called pet names, he never used them for Sokka. Instead, Zuko preferred Sokka’s name. The first time Zuko used it with that much care after they got together Sokka nearly passed out. It still gets him every time.

Sokka tried to hang his head, but Zuko’s hands wouldn’t let him escape. “I’m sorry.” Zuko shook his head and cupped Sokka’s cheeks in his palms, tilting his face upwards and pressing a kiss to his forehead. Sokka melted at the touch. Zuko never let him off the hook whenever he attempted to convince Zuko that he was fine, but when Sokka admitted how he was really feeling, Zuko encouraged him so sweetly it made him wonder why he didn’t do it more often.

“Don’t be sorry. What do you still have to do?” Zuko asked. Sokka glanced at the pile of papers sitting on his desk.

“I need to finish this letter to Aang about his anniversary gift to Katara, and then I need to write Dad back about the city hall reconstruction, and I also need to do some more research on inter-nation communications in peacetime,” Sokka listed, growing frantic with each added item. “And there’s some other stuff that I could do, but—”

“Let’s start there,” Zuko cut him off gently. “Katara and Aang’s anniversary isn’t for another six months, I’m sure Aang can wait another day. When is the latest you could write back to your father?”

Sokka met Zuko’s inquisitive stare, resisting the urge to say tonight. He could already imagine Zuko narrowing his eyes, silently telling him to reconsider. He pondered the timeline, then sighed. “At the very latest, by the end of the week.” 

Zuko nodded. “And I know for a fact you don’t have to have that communications report fully done until next week, so you can afford to stop for today.” Sokka rested his forehead on Zuko’s chest, and Zuko propped his chin on Sokka’s head. The slow burn of guilt was already flooding his body at the thought of abandoning his unfinished tasks. Trying to ignore it, he breathed in Zuko’s scent, a mixture of smoke and jasmine soap. As he exhaled, the tension flooded from his body, and he felt his limbs grow heavy.

“Can you please let me take care of you?” Zuko asked quietly. “You woke up before me and you’ve been in and out of meetings or at your desk doing paperwork all day.” Sokka shoved gently at Zuko’s chest with his head and felt Zuko let out a huff of laughter at the gesture.

“Okay,” Sokka replied. He tried to sound reluctant but the word slipped out stripped down and small.

Drawing away from Sokka, Zuko pulled at the band holding Sokka’s wolf tail up. Sokka watched as Zuko frowned slightly, concentrating to make sure he didn’t yank at Sokka’s hair.

Sokka grinned. “You’re so cute, love.” Zuko blushed at the compliment, focusing on running his fingers through Sokka’s hair to ease the tension on his scalp instead of replying. When Zuko was satisfied with his work, and Sokka’s hair was thoroughly mussed, Zuko darted a quick kiss on Sokka’s cheek.

“Bath time.” Zuko rolled his eyes as Sokka smirked, quirking an eyebrow suggestively. “No, just for you.”

“Is His Majesty too good to bathe with me?” Sokka teased. Zuko narrowed his eyes but his smile betrayed his attempt at a glare.

“I’m not the one who stinks.”

“Hey!” Sokka yelped, then sniffed his armpit. “I don’t—well, okay. Maybe a little.” Zuko’s gaze softened, and his smile spread warmly across his face.

“Come on. Let’s get you clean.”

In the bathroom, Zuko sent small flames whizzing off to light the candles that lined the bathtub. Sokka watched as he closed his eyes, exhaling to heat the water up and fill the room with steam, sparks dancing in his mouth. Despite being told that firebending coming from the breath was a very serious part of the ancient art, Sokka’s brain never failed to short-circuit whenever he saw Zuko breathe fire.

Sokka dipped a pinky into the bath warily. Zuko, unsurprisingly, liked his bathwater steaming and Sokka had emerged from the first bath they took together feeling like he had been boiled alive. He didn’t want to complain, but after that, Zuko made sure the water was merely warm enough to ease the ache in his bones.

“You don’t have to do all this for me,” Sokka protested weakly, but Zuko shook his head, sprinkling some lavender bath salts into the water.

“I want to.” Zuko turned to the counter, busying himself with preparing some tea. Sokka had mentioned once how nice it would be to enjoy a drink as he soaked in the bath, and a tea set had appeared in the bathroom the next day. Zuko cupped the pot in his hands and slowly steam began to escape from the spout. Sokka wrapped his arms around Zuko’s waist, hugging him snugly and resting his chin on Zuko’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Sokka murmured. 

Zuko rested his cheek on Sokka’s head in reply, and he could feel Zuko’s smile widening. He watched Zuko’s graceful hands as they set the pot down to let the tea steep, then slipped briefly around two teacups, heating the ceramic in a ritual that was familiar to Sokka by now.

When the tea was ready, Zuko poured both cups and nudged one at his hand wrapped around Zuko’s waist. Sokka took a sip, warmth flooding his body.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Zuko murmured. Reluctantly, Sokka unwrapped his arms from around Zuko and set his teacup down to shrug off his clothes. He slid into the bath with a deep sigh, and Zuko carried over his own cup of tea and sank gracefully on the ledge next to the bathtub.

“Are you going to soap me up now?” Sokka asked, half teasing, half hopeful. 

“If you take care of your body, I’ll wash your hair,” Zuko replied. This was a classic move he pulled, tricking Sokka into participating in taking care of himself by promising things Sokka very much enjoyed. He slid under the water, wetting his hair obligingly, then tilted his head back. Zuko went to work with the shampoo, gently massaging Sokka’s head, and Sokka held up his end of the bargain, beginning with his arms.

If he told himself two years ago that one day Zuko would be lovingly washing his hair after convincing him to stop working to take care of himself, Sokka would—well, he wouldn’t believe his future self, for one. He had thought he was doomed to an unrequited crush since the first week he spent as the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize he had feelings for Zuko, noticing how his legs would go weak whenever Zuko would sweep around the corner in full Fire Lord regalia, hair cascading gracefully down his shoulders. In meetings, he watched in awe as Zuko spoke with unbridled passion, gesturing wildly as he explained the Fire Nation’s responsibility to right the wrongs previous Fire Lords had inflicted upon the world. And Sokka loved Zuko’s other side just as fiercely, too, the one Zuko only revealed when it was just the two of them, hair disheveled and dressed in rumpled casual clothes. Then, and only then, Zuko would quietly voice his fears that he was heading in the wrong direction and Sokka, heart close to shattering, would desperately remind Zuko of all the good he was doing.

Sure, some might say appointing the Southern Water Tribe chief’s son and Fire Lord’s best friend as the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador was nepotism, but regardless, Sokka was damn good at his job. He got along well with the other ambassadors, and they indulged his endless curiosity about their cultures, recommending books that he would tear through and come back with new questions on. These conversations, while enjoyable, also gave him invaluable insights into policy decisions and trade agreements and he quickly earned Zuko’s ministers’ respect despite his age. He would lie down to sleep at night with a longing ache flooding his body, and the only thing that made it go away was work. 

And so he read, pushing aside his feelings for Zuko until a year into his term as ambassador when they took their trip to the night market and he finally kissed Zuko, calling him darling and seeing him blush, just like Sokka suspected he would. The work was a difficult habit to shake, though, even when he was met with a warm embrace and sweet kisses trailing along his neck at night instead of an empty ache.

Zuko’s quiet voice brought him out of his reverie. “Sokka?” Sokka hummed gently in response. “How are you feeling?” Sokka blinked his eyes open, staring up at Zuko. He had a hopeful half-smile on his face as he lathered up Sokka’s hair, applying the perfect amount of pressure and moving in slow, even circles with the pads of his fingers.

“So good, sweetheart,” Sokka groaned happily. “That felt wonderful.” He did feel far more relaxed. The pile of paperwork on his desk was a distant memory, could have belonged to someone else, even. And it was nice to be clean, with freshly washed hair.

Zuko beamed, patting his hands dry on a nearby towel. “Do you need anything else to help you relax?” he asked. Sokka hesitated. He still had to fight the initial urge to suppress his desires, even though Zuko had always made it clear that he would give Sokka anything he asked for. Absolutely anything.

As Sokka straightened up, his hand found his shoulder and he winced. Sitting at a desk all day wreaked havoc on his back; the muscles there were rock hard. He turned to see Zuko waiting patiently, an open, earnest expression on his face as he leaned forward and awaited Sokka’s response. Zuko was unnervingly good at anticipating Sokka’s needs, but recently he had been pulling back to urge Sokka to ask for what he wanted. He was still getting used to it, but Zuko never rushed him or expressed his frustration in any way.

“Um-” Sokka’s voice came out small, hesitant, and he cleared his throat. “Could you, uh, give me a massage?” A wave of guilt threatened to overwhelm him, but it dissipated as Zuko nodded eagerly.

“I’d love to,” Zuko said. “Get dressed, and meet me in the room, okay?” Sokka leaned forward, drawing Zuko in by the front of his shirt for a deep kiss. He smiled as he felt Zuko sigh happily against his lips before pulling away to head back to their room.

Zuko had turned down the sheets and was waiting patiently for Sokka’s arrival. They decided early on that Sokka’s room would be the room that they slept in; Sokka preferred being surrounded by familiar animal pelts and Water Tribe blues, and Zuko’s was too full of expensive Fire Nation decor for him to truly relax.

Zuko patted the bed. “Your back is one huge knot.” 

Sokka cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve been looking?” he teased.

“Of course, how could I not?” 

Sokka inhaled sharply, heart fluttering. Zuko’s sudden shifts from dry flirtation to blunt compliments always caught him off balance. Zuko saw Sokka’s reaction and grinned, eyes glinting. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Slipping the gown off of his shoulders, Sokka laid face down. Zuko’s firebender-warm hands, slathered in massage oil, began to work at the broad, knotted muscles across Sokka’s back.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he groaned. The blunt pain soon gave way to release as Zuko kneaded, careful never to let the muscles slip. He began at Sokka’s shoulders, working his way down his back with smooth, deliberate movements.

“And you said you weren’t tense,” Zuko chided softly. “I told you, I know. Does this feel alright?”

Sokka nodded. “Yeah, I-spirits that hurts-no but it’s good! I’ll tell you if it’s-oh fuck,” he stammered, feeling his muscles relax for the first time since Zuko last gave him a massage.

Sokka moaned as Zuko found a particularly tight area between his shoulder blades. “If you keep moaning like that you’re about to get a very different type of massage,” Zuko warned, but Sokka could hear his voice waver slightly, betraying the cracks in the gentle but firm caretaker persona Zuko took up when tending to Sokka. Whenever Sokka started vocally expressing the pleasure he was feeling, he knew Zuko wouldn’t be able to hold it together for much longer.

Sokka smirked, turning his head to the side to peer past the hair that had fallen into his eyes in Zuko’s direction. “Promise?” Sokka tried to sound teasing but couldn’t hide the desire that crept into his voice. He wanted what would come next just as badly as Zuko did; Zuko dug his elbow into one of the larger knots and Sokka let out his loudest moan yet to shatter Zuko’s last shreds of self-control.

“Sokka,” Zuko gasped, and that was it. 

Sokka flipped around, tugging Zuko down by the front of his shirt until their faces were mere inches apart and Sokka was staring into Zuko’s eyes. _Liquid gold_ , he’d called them once and Zuko had blinked widely at him, mouth agape. Some compliments will render a certain Fire Lord speechless for a good five minutes, he’d found.

“You take such good care of me, love, thank you.” Sokka grinned wickedly, mind racing ahead to everything he wanted to do to return the favor. “Your turn?” The words barely left his mouth before Zuko nodded frantically and crushed their lips together in a desperate kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! come find me @catchmidnight on tumblr and say hi :)


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